The ride back to the pack grounds was tense.
Aria clutched the pendant tightly in her palm, its pulse matching her heartbeat. The words of the seer echoed in her mind: There is a traitor among your pack. One who wears your crest.
Beside her, Kael was silent, his jaw clenched. Even without words, she felt the storm brewing in him. Riven rode ahead, scanning the trees with sharp eyes, as though expecting an ambush at any moment.
They entered the pack territory just as the sun dipped below the horizon. Golden light bathed the forest in fire, casting long shadows across the stone path that led to the heart of the stronghold.
As they approached the gates, a young scout rushed forward. "Alpha Kael!"
Kael dismounted immediately. "What is it?"
"There's been an attack—inside the walls."
Aria's breath caught.
"Who?" Kael asked.
The scout hesitated. "Beta Darion. He's alive—but barely. Someone tried to kill him… in the War Room."
Kael cursed under his breath. "Secure the perimeter. Double the guards. No one enters or leaves the stronghold without my command."
"Yes, Alpha!"
They raced toward the main keep, the air thick with the scent of blood and magic.
When they entered the War Room, it was a mess. Maps had been torn down, chairs shattered. Darion lay on a table, his chest bandaged and slick with blood. A healer hovered over him, whispering incantations as glowing herbs pulsed against his skin.
Riven leaned down beside him. "Darion. Who did this to you?"
Darion's eyes fluttered open. Pain twisted his face. He coughed, blood bubbling at the corners of his mouth.
"It was…" he rasped in pain, "…one of us."
Kael leaned in. "Who, Darion? Tell me."
Darion struggled, trying to speak. Then his eyes rolled back.
The healer shook her head. "He's slipping into a healing trance. We won't get another word tonight."
Kael turned away, fists clenched.
Aria stepped forward. "They didn't kill him. Why?"
Kael looked over his shoulder. "Because they didn't need to. Whatever he saw, they couldn't risk him telling us."
"But he did," Riven said quietly. "He said it was one of us. Which means someone close."
Aria's gaze drifted across the room. The crest of the Crimson Fang—the silver wolf on red—was emblazoned on every wall. Every soldier. Every leader.
They all wore the mark.
Her stomach turned. One of them is working with the enemy. Watching her. Waiting for the right moment to strike.
---
Later that night, Aria found herself in the garden courtyard, away from the stares, the whispers. She could feel the tension thickening in the air. Members of the pack glanced her way with uncertainty—some with awe, others with fear.
She hated it.
She wasn't a goddess. She was just a girl trying to survive a storm she never asked for.
Footsteps approached behind her.
"You're avoiding everyone," Kael said softly.
"I needed air," she replied. "And silence."
He walked to her side, his presence grounding.
"They fear me," she said, not looking at him.
"They fear what they don't understand," Kael replied. "That's different."
"I don't even understand me," she said, voice tight. "What if I lose control one day? What if the thing inside me… breaks free?"
Kael turned her to face him. "Then I'll pull you back. No matter what. You're not alone in this, Aria. You never will be."
Their eyes locked. The bond pulsed between them again—hot and electric. She wanted to believe him. But beneath the passion was fear.
Fear of who she was becoming.
Or what she already was.
He cupped her face gently. "Let me remind you who you are."
And then he kissed her.
This kiss wasn't desperate like before. It was slow, deep, reverent. A promise sealed with lips and tongue. His hands slid down her back, pulling her closer, until she was pressed against him, his warmth wrapping around her like a cocoon.
Her robe slipped slightly, exposing her collarbone. Kael's lips followed, trailing fire across her skin, branding her with every touch.
"You smell like wild moonflowers," he whispered, voice thick. "And lightning."
She smiled faintly. "You smell like home."
He lifted her easily, carrying her inside to his chamber without breaking the kiss. Moonlight bathed the room, illuminating their tangled forms as they rediscovered each other. There was no rush this time—just raw connection.
They moved together in perfect rhythm, their bond igniting like wildfire. And in that moment, Aria wasn't the vessel of an ancient power. She was his. And he was hers.
---
Hours later, Kael stirred awake.
Aria lay beside him, curled into his chest, breathing softly. He brushed a lock of hair from her face, then rose quietly, slipping into a tunic.
There was too much unrest. Too many questions. And the traitor—whoever they were—was still free.
He stepped into the hall and was surprised to find Riven waiting outside his chamber.
"I didn't want to disturb you," Riven said. "But we found something."
Kael nodded for him to continue.
"The archives," Riven said. "One of the blood-lock scrolls has been opened."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "Which one?"
"The Shadow Binding Ritual."
Kael cursed under his breath. "That scroll requires Alpha blood."
Riven nodded grimly. "Which means it was either you—or someone who's managed to replicate your signature."
"That shouldn't be possible."
Riven's face was pale. "Unless the traitor is blood-kin."
Kael froze.
His mind raced through names. There were few with Alpha blood in their veins… and even fewer with access to the inner sanctum.
"I want everyone tested," Kael said. "Every elite, every council member. No exceptions."
Riven hesitated. "There's more."
Kael looked at him sharply. "What?"
"We checked the surveillance crystals at the War Room. The ones that monitor magical signatures."
Kael didn't like the hesitation in Riven's voice. "Spit it out."
Riven exhaled. "Right before Darion was attacked… Aria was in the corridor."
Kael went still. "That's impossible. She was with me."
"I know. I saw her leave. But the signature… it matched hers."
Kael's mind reeled. "You think she has a double?"
Riven nodded slowly. "Or someone has found a way to use her magic."
They were silent for a moment.
Then Kael spoke, voice hard. "If they can mimic her power… they're planning something big."
Riven looked away. "What if it's not mimicry?"
Kael's breath caught. "What are you saying?"
"What if the thing inside her—this ancient power—isn't fully under her control?"
Kael turned sharply, his wolf growling just beneath the surface. "Aria is not the enemy."
"I'm not saying she is," Riven said carefully. "But what if someone's awakening it from the outside? Pulling strings we can't see?"
Kael didn't respond. He couldn't.
Because deep down, he feared Riven might be right.
---
Back in the chamber, Aria stirred from uneasy sleep. Her dreams had been filled with fire and screams. A sea of wolves covered in ash. She stood above them, her hands glowing red.
And behind her… the cloaked man.
Only now, she saw his face.
It was familiar.
It was…
Darion.
Her eyes flew open.
"No," she whispered.
Just then, the pendant at her neck cracked.
And the whispers returned.
Louder.
Clearer.
> "Come to me, vessel. The gate awaits."